


i was born with a box of matches in my hand

by akaiiko



Series: Zutara Month 2016 [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Fire Demon!Zuko, Witch!Katara, Zutara Month 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaiiko/pseuds/akaiiko
Summary: All the best witches have demons.





	

The people of Jang Hui don’t want a witch. They hire one anyway.

Well, honestly, they hire six or seven witches. One after the other after the other. It’s six _or_ seven because, depending on who you ask, witch number four wasn’t _actually_ a witch. Just a minor illusionist with delusions of grandeur. Problem is, delusional illusionist aside, they haven’t been able to keep any of their witches. Only one of them made it longer than a month. The last one runs off in the middle of the night three days in.

By that point, the people of Jang Hui are ready to wash their hands of the whole business. They start to mutter at the local tavern that they never wanted a witch to begin with. Who needs a witch?

In another life, the story ends here.

(The story doesn’t end here.)

* * *

 Late in the day, when the sun’s gone to hide behind the mountains but the men are still on the lake with their nets, a strange boat comes down the river. It’s slender and dances atop the water. As it draws closer, those with sharp eyes can make out painted waves on its hull and a petite girl in its berth.

By the time the moon rises just over the eastern mountains the strange boat with the strange girl comes to rest against one of Jang Hui’s docks. Most of the town has gathered here. “Hello,” a brave, nameless child says.

“Hello,” the girl answers. And when she tips her head back to meet their curious gazes they pull in a collective gasp. Because the strange girl is beautiful. So beautiful that for a moment its hard to discern _why_. Her eyes, perhaps, which are the exact color of the summer sky. Or her smile, maybe, which has a thousand quiet compassions tucked in its edges. Or her voice, even, that flows over all rough things and makes them soft. “Would you mind if I docked here for the night?”

* * *

 It’s decided, communally, that the strange girl can stay in the witch house. This earns a smile and a question. _Why do you have a witch house but no witch?_ Everyone tries to explain at once and somehow she manages to get the story straight enough.

“Well, I’m a witch,” she says. No one questions her. Of course she’s a witch. With her strange boat and her strange beauty, what else could she be? “And I will stay a while.”

Again, no one questions her, but they do have a bit of doubt. Privately. No witch has made it here in Jang Hui. They’ve had six or seven. They never really wanted one anyway. They forget all that, though, when she smiles and passes a hand over the head of little Meiko who’s had a cough for three weeks, curing it in the space between one breath and the next.

* * *

 Katara stows away her scant belongings in a chest that must’ve been meant to house spell ingredients. The witch house is sparsely furnished and what furniture there is has been arranged around the firepit. Of course, she hadn’t expected much. In a village with few resources this plain room, dubbed a house only because it was free-standing, was all that could be afforded. Still, she couldn’t see a city witch seeing it in those terms.

“No wonder they’ve had such trouble,” she mutters. “Nothing to be done about it. I’ll clean up the river, at least, and bring back the fish. Heal their sick. That’ll do them until I can circle back next year...”

Dusting her hands, she stands and turns toward the firepit. It seems like a good idea to bank the fire before she collapses from pure exhaustion. But then her summer sky eyes settle on the fire, she quite simply...stops.

There, in the firepit, is a man.

Maybe the only consolation is he looks just as surprised as she does. The man’s jaw drops, revealing teeth white like the heart of a flame, and his golden eyes literally crackle. Around his straight backed form the fire seems to take on a life of its own. It flares high and bright, nearly blinding her, then collapses back down into embers.

Katara’s never seen one before but she knows as soon as she meets those unearthly eyes just what he is. “Fire demon,” she breathes. It sounds nearly like an accusation and she bites the inside of her cheek in shame.

“Witch,” he says back. There’s something inhuman to his voice. A bite that’s like wood catching fire.

Clearing her throat, she backs up until she can collapse onto the chest. It creaks beneath her weight but does not give. Bless whoever crafted it. “How... How did you end up...” When he simply blinks at her, she bites out, “Here?”

Because here are the things she knows about fire demons: they’re very powerful, they’re lacking in any particular conscience as defined by humans, they’re not to be found anywhere but in the homes of the most powerful and wealthy magicians. All the best witches have demons. But Katara’s never particularly wanted a demon and to find one here of all places...

The fire demon scowls and ducks his head. Hides his eyes from her behind the dark flames that must be his hair. “I don’t know.” Katara tries to make sense of this, but all her thoughts disappear as he looks up. “How did a witch of your class end up here?”

Katara shakes her head with a soft laugh. “I drifted in with the tide,” she says. “And I’ll leave the same way.”

The fire demon’s scowl deepens. His shoulders go back and he stands, if possible, even straighter. There’s something both aggressive and noble to his stance. “So you’re not going to help them either?”

“I will _never_ turn my back on people who need me!” And she’s as surprised as he at the power behind her words.

Moments pass. The only sounds that pass between them are her harsh pants and the lull of the river and the snap of his fire. Katara curls her fingers around the edge of the chest’s lid until her knuckles turn nearly white.

Finally, the fire demon tilts his head in a gesture that’s almost like apology.


End file.
